Everyone Needs a Guardian
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Everyone needs a Guardian. And I can be yours. AU. Rated T for sexual abuse. Might be changed to M later. Not slash. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1: Hush

_**Everyone Needs a Guardian **_

**A/N: Well, it's already October, I felt a mighty need to write something set around Christmastime, and this is it! I don't know if it's my best work, honestly - my voice is more powerful from first person POV, but first person POV just won't cut it for this story. I enjoy alternating between Hiccup and Jack POV too much to confine myself to one or the other. I hope I kept them both in-character.**

**WARNING: Sexual abuse! If you could be triggered by this, please do not read! I do not want to upset you! **

**Disclaimer, I do not own anything. The things I would do if RotG and HTTYD were mine...do the words 'soul-crushing angst' strike fear in your hearts? Ah, well, just read. **

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><p>It was nighttime again, but Hiccup hadn't done anything wrong. The sun was setting, sinking lower and lower in the rapidly darkening sky, the snow was picking up as if readying itself for the moon's arrival, but Hiccup hadn't done anything wrong. The inhabitants of all the other houses on the street were lighting the candles in their windows, but Hiccup hadn't done anything wrong.<p>

He stood in his darkened bedroom, staring longingly out at the candles, wondering what the inhabitants of those houses were thinking. Were they excited about the holiday the following week? Surely they would be. The only person he knew who wasn't displaying any sort of holiday cheer was his father, who came home every day mumbling drunkenly about those effing lights, and those childish displays.

From somewhere on the stairs, there came a sudden creaking noise, as though of very old wood. And by the closed window, Hiccup froze completely.

_No, _he thought to himself, his heart picking up speed and beginning to beat unnaturally fast. _No, Dad has no reason to be coming up here, I didn't do anything wrong today… _Petrified, he continued to stand there, hands clenched so tightly around the cold windowsill that his knuckles had turned white.

The door creaked open and there, framed in the doorway, was the terrifying, hulking shape of his father, his arms outstretched as if he were reaching for Hiccup. Some nights, his dad was simply scared and pale and confused, looking around himself in bewilderment, as if he couldn't remember how he had gotten there. Those nights, he was just sad. On those nights, he stumbled and trembled and begged Hiccup to explain things.

On nights like these, he walked with a purposeful stride across the room towards his son, which he was doing right now. On nights like these, he did not second-guess himself, and he did not hesitate. And on nights like these, he was nothing short of terrifying.

"Dad, please…" Hiccup began to stammer, scooting away from the window, cutting his eyes longingly to the door. _If only! _

"Hush." The man reached the boy before Hiccup could make any moves, or even attempt to escape. He caught the boy's wrists in an iron grip, leading him almost lovingly towards the bed pushed up against the wall.

Hiccup screamed and started to struggle, trying desperately to pull his hand away, tears gathering in his eyes as he was forced to face the terror his father had in store for him. "No, Dad! Please, please, I didn't…I don't…I was good today, Dad, I promise!" It was a terrible sight, the boy practically throwing himself at his father's feet, yearning for forgiveness, peace and maybe praise.

Stoick knelt down next to his son, tugging at Hiccup's sleeve. The teenager understood this gesture did not mean "get up" but "stay still". As the man began to slowly strip him of his shirt, a crackling sound at the window made them both pause briefly and look up, but there was nobody there, merely a frost pattern on the window due to the howling wind and unforgiving ice.

With renewed purpose, Stoick turned back to look at his son, but Hiccup began to struggle again as the window creaked alarmingly. "Please, Dad, please, please, please, don't do this, I don't want to do this tonight, not again…"

Now that the boy was half-naked, Stoick jerked him up and slammed him roughly down on the bed, causing the springs within the mattress to creak and groan. Hiccup squirmed, struggling frantically and trying his hardest to pull his father's left hand off of his wrist. With his right hand, the man reached down and moved toward the boy's waist, looking for the button on his jeans.

Panic and terror consumed the struggling Hiccup and he began to scream again, the tears pouring down his face.

"Hush." Stoick momentarily took his hands away from his son's jeans to lovingly stroke the freckled cheek. "Hush, Hiccup, hush."

"Pl-please," Hiccup managed through his sobs. "Dad, please don't do this, please…"

Stoick moved his hand back down to the waist, and this time he was luckier: he found the button relatively easily, snapping it open one handed and beginning to work on inching it off the small sides.

"Dad!" Real fear colored Hiccup's tone now, and this was apparent even through his tears.

"Hush, hush, now."

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><p>Jack Frost stared at the scene before him, unsure what to think. Emotions were clouding his brain so fast, he could barely retain what he was seeing. The boy on the bed, Hiccup, was still sobbing and pleading with his father not to do it, even though the horrible deed had already been done. How could the winter spirit's day have gone from a snowball fight with his few believers, to painting a frost pattern on a darkened window to this? He stood in the middle of the room, feeling the darkness almost buffeting him, as if it were trying to force him back out of the room. He tightened his grip on his staff and stood his ground, watching as the man slowly stood up, as if he had done this a million times before, and walked to the door.<p>

The father's hands did not shake. His expression was calm, his posture relaxed, as he reached the door, flung it open and strode back outside. The door closed again in an instant, but the boy on the bed ignored all of this; he merely continued to lay there, sobbing. He didn't bother getting up and putting his clothes back on, but Jack couldn't feel embarrassed due to nudity; after what he had just witnessed, he could not judge.

Hiccup crawled shakily over to the head of the bed, still naked, and sank down beneath the covers, pulling them almost up over his head. It was then that Jack found his voice. He hopped agilely onto the bed beside the sniffling boy, and tugged feebly at the blanket. "Kid, get out of there. You'll suffocate."

Hiccup didn't give a verbal response, but he seemed to sink farther down into the bed, and Jack realized with a start of guilt that all his presence was really doing was decreasing the temperature, bit by bit. He was too upset over what he had seen to be truly placid yet. Ought he to leave and wait until—?

No. This thought was banished as soon as it came. He knew it was probably silly, considering Hiccup couldn't see him, but he was not going to leave this boy. What he had seen was nothing short of inhuman cruelty, but he wasn't leaving yet. He pushed himself farther up on the bed, resting a comforting white hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm not letting anything happen to you," he insisted quietly, even though he just had. But that…that had been shock. He truly hadn't expected something like this to happen, in Jamie's neighborhood, no less. How long had it been going on, and how long had he flown by this depressing-looking house, with its dark windows and blank doorways, never knowing what was going on within?

"I know you can't hear me," Jack continued steadily, sitting up a little straighter and taking his hand away from the bare shoulder. "But I'm a Guardian. It's sort of my job to protect children just like you. And I'll do it. I'll look after you. You don't have to see me for me to able to help you. Everyone needs a Guardian, and I can be yours."

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><p>Rays of moonlight fell across Hiccup's dirty, stained white pillowcase, turned a dull yellow from so many years of age. He felt tears trickling out of the corners of his eyes and he shivered as he drew the sheets and covers closer around him, silently damning the cold weather. Glancing around the room, he realized the source of the temperature: the window was thrown wide open, snow piling steadily up on the sill, flecks of white blowing in onto the carpet.<p>

For a moment, Hiccup merely registered what was there. The window was open, and snow was coming in. So why did this information set off alarm bells in his head? His heart started beating uncomfortably fast again as he rolled over, the chill growing stronger. He had screamed, hadn't he? When the jeans had come off, when the…when his father had started…when it had…when it had happened, he had screamed. He screamed and cried and struggled whenever it happened, and what chilled him to the bone, even worse than the cold trickling in, was if the window had been open when he'd been screaming. What would he do if people in the streets had heard him? People would find out, and what sort of actions would they take then? His pulse raced just considering them.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the scene, to think if he had even once stopped and glanced at the window…he had been looking out the window when his father had come in the room…he had heard a crackling noise and looked at the window and…and…it had still been closed? Yes. It had been.

Releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Hiccup relaxed once again against the sheets. Could he really be so lucky? Could the window really have been closed the whole time?

Lucky.

The word floated back to him. What irony. Lucky was having parents that didn't rape you. Lucky was having even one person, a single living soul, who loved you and cared about your well-being, if for no other reason than that they simply liked who you were. Lucky was having regular punishments for doing something wrong, not this.

As the thought occurred, Hiccup turned away from the window again, feeling more tears begin to build in his eyes. It was nighttime again, and he had done something wrong.


	2. Chapter 2: Glass Star

_**Everyone Needs a Guardian **_

**A/N: Well, welcome to the second part to this three-shot. Honestly, I know this chapter is kind of boring, but I really needed to write it. And no offense, but I'm not writing this one so people will like it. There are certain stories that I write just for me, and this one is one of them. This is probably the last time I'll post until after the holidays, so Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy...uh...I don't know what it's called...Hanukkah, and then I think there's Kwanzaa, but something tells me that one's a different holiday...well, anyway, whatever you celebrate, I hope you have a fun time of it!**

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><p>Hiccup didn't really go that many places, to be honest. But he did things. He went to the tiny brick shop on the other side of town every time he could, even continuing on the familiar path to the place whenever the sky above him started getting dark, which had been happening a lot, as of late, considering it was almost Christmas.<p>

This time, the sun didn't start setting until he was inside the tiny shop, the bell dinging loudly and announcing his entrance. The dark-haired woman behind the counter barely even looked up anymore; he came in here enough that she practically knew him by name, and she had since lost interest in the boy who kept entering her shop. He walked slowly past the Christmas tree display, the green pine branches aglow with white and colored lights, some solid, some blinking, some icicle lights and some plain. A toy train went around and around the display in an endless loop, the track completely enclosing the trees.

Hiccup reached out and touched one of the branches, rocking the ornaments. A glass star whirled and trembled off its perch, slipping into his palm. It fit so easily there, his fingers curled around it, and the glass sparkled when he held it up to the light. Christmas was supposed to be such a beautiful time, a time of family and friends and laughter and food, a time of evergreen wreaths and bows and holly and glass stars, and instead, his Christmas was going to be spent alone, staring at the ugly, dusty corner where they used to put their tree every year, when they were a whole family.

This would have been Hiccup's fourteenth Christmas, if anybody was counting, but no one was.

The dark-haired lady looked up from reading her newspaper, popped her bubble gum loudly, and spoke. "Please don't disturb the displays, Hiccup."

He jumped at being addressed. "Right." He slipped the glass star back on the branch, taking a look at the sky before hurrying out of the shop.

Once he was out the door, he took in a deep breath of winter air. The scent of wood smoke and peppermint hit him, almost enough to make him smile. The rest of the day was completely his own, for his father always worked late on Fridays. He wouldn't be there to do anything to Hiccup until long after the boy had already gone to bed and, with any luck, his father might end up just forgetting the whole thing and going to bed himself.

Hiccup shuddered when his mind strayed to his father, trying to distract himself by looking up at the sky. Winter sunsets were always beautiful, and this one was no exception, with the impressive soft pink, deep blue and steel gray coloring, but the beauty was the last thing on his mind. He didn't want to think about his father, not on a day when he didn't absolutely have to, so he pushed the matter from his mind and looked about himself at the downtown shops, little though he knew he had to; he had memorized them all.

The shops were all perfectly aligned in neat, quaint little rows of three, the clean brick buildings hung with lights and garland for the holiday. Some people had even planted Christmas trees outside their shops to attract more holiday shoppers, while others had Santa or a few snowmen waving cheerily to passersby. Deciding to forego the shop with Santa in front, not least because Santa freaked him out a little, Hiccup headed for the one with all the Christmas trees and lights, pushing it open. The irresistible smell of chocolate, cinnamon and pure sugar hit him, causing him to stop right there in the doorway and draw another deep breath before looking around for the source of the smell.

It wasn't a shop; it was a bakery. Hiccup must have been so entranced with their decorations that he hadn't thought to look in the windows. Now he could see the displays packed with freshly baked goods, and the smiling woman behind the counter wearing an apron with the bakery's logo on it. "Hey, sweetheart," she greeted cheerfully, her voice as sugary as the smell inside. "Can I get you anything?"

Hiccup came back to himself long enough to speak. "Oh…no. That's okay, I'm just…I'm just looking." He didn't want to say he hadn't come here to buy – that got you thrown out of the shops faster than anything, considering most people assumed that meant he'd come to case the joint. Honestly, he didn't even look threatening, even to himself. Why did people always assume he was out to get them?

Hiccup left the shop quickly after that, back into the snow, prepared to brave the cold weather and the dreary, dark winter skies all the way home. Most of the snow had stopped falling already, but the ground was still covered in white, and the odd flake or two fell here and there every few minutes, warning people that winter still wasn't over. He considered stopping by another one of the shops to wait out the rest of the snow, but the rest of the shops on the block were all shops he'd been kicked out of once or twice. Besides, with his luck, the snow would just pick up while he waited.

By the time he'd arrived home, it was full night, and as he'd expected, his father still wasn't home. He gave a quiet little breath of relief, slipping out of his cold, wet clothes and pulling on warm ones. There was no one here to hurt him today, unless you counted himself. Don't think he hadn't tried going that route, but that stuff wasn't the type for him.

He turned out the light just before crawling into bed, making sure that his windows were closed this time. He didn't want another surprise.

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><p>Jack knew it was wrong. He knew it was stupid, and none of the other Guardians would ever understand it, and Jamie would find it just plain creepy. But he had to. He had to keep coming back to see Hiccup, even when the kid couldn't see him. Even though he had now accepted that the kid would probably never see him, because no matter what he tried, Hiccup remained completely oblivious to the fact that he was there, he had to keep coming back. Because Hiccup needed someone. Jack knew he couldn't technically interfere in a child's life, because adults weren't really supposed to know that he and the other Guardians existed, so he couldn't really make anything better. But he, of all people, knew how much help it was sometimes if someone simply offered you a comforting touch or smile or wink, just to make you feel better. Of course he knew that, having to go without that for three hundred years. And Hiccup, who appeared just as isolated as he, would definitely understand that. So he stayed when he could, and whenever he found a spare moment, he would come right back here, if only to watch Hiccup sleep and make frost patterns on the glass.<p>

That was the part the other Guardians would find creepy and outside of their guidelines. They weren't supposed to watch children sleep, but to Jack, it didn't feel like he was stalking Hiccup or anything. He was just trying to watch over him this time, and make sure his dad didn't do anything to him again. This time, it appeared that the man really was going to be gone awhile, because Hiccup didn't seem tense or expectant at all. He undressed easily and went straight to bed, pulling the covers over his shivering frame.

Jack jumped up to the foot of the bed, leaning against the cool wall, and placing a gentle hand on Hiccup's covers. As he'd expected, Hiccup's position didn't change, but that wasn't going to stop him from staying for a few more minutes. It wasn't like he was like Edward Cullen or anything. He didn't watch Hiccup sleep because he felt an irresistible attraction or whatever – he just felt that Hiccup had been hurt too much, and needed someone to keep him safe, or at least watch over him. He'd even told the Guardians about him when it had first happened; he'd been shaking everywhere, barely able to hold his staff straight as he talked, but to his surprise, they hadn't reacted with the same amount of horror. Tooth put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder and said that it was awful, and Sandman said he would bring Hiccup a nice dream that night, but North and Bunny had not made any promises of the sort. They'd both just looked at each other, and when Jack asked what they were going to do long-term, they'd just looked at him like he was crazy.

They'd told him not to worry and that, if the child didn't believe in them, then technically, nothing could be done. They couldn't comfort him, and they couldn't bring him out of the home without exposing themselves. Here was where Jack had had his first disagreement with the Guardians after becoming one of them. How could they not care? How could they just shrug off what was going on with him? Jack didn't even know that was happening to kids, and they'd known all along? How many other children had they just abandoned because things were too difficult? The thought made his stomach clench with anger. It was just too much.

Hiccup was asleep by now, breathing deeply and evenly, but Jack vowed to himself that, even if this kid never even saw him once, he was going to find a way to bring him out of this home and get his father reported to the police. Because everyone needed a Guardian, even if some people weren't so willing to be that Guardian. Jack was willing to be, and he'd be that Guardian no matter what.


End file.
